Naked Mole Rats, Red Rhinos, Buffalo Bobs, oh my!
by QuikSylver
Summary: Riza gets drunk and starts telling everyone what she really thinks about them. Written for a competition between Icey Alchemist and me. Please R&R, it's appreciated. Bad title, I know, I just couldn't think of anything else.


Random fanfic drabble-thing between -Icey Alchemist- and me! Yeah!

The conditions/phrases/things we needed to include are as follows:  
-"Roy in a mini skirt..." (phrase)  
-loser Mario (thing  
-abstract expressionism (thing)  
-"Come here little buddy, let's play a game." (phrase)  
-"Chalk is healthy for red rhinos living in the Arctic!" (phrase)  
-"C'mon guys, let's dance!" (phrase)  
-Buffalo Bob (thing)  
-"Ling is sexy!" (phrase)  
-Someone has to be drunk (condition)  
-Easter bunny costume (thing)

_**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**_-snaps fingers- Darn!

I know this timeline doesn't really work out, but deal with it.

* * *

Colonel Roy Mustang, age 29, Flame Alchemist and ladies' man, was floored. 

In all his years of going to the bar, (12, actually; he'd been able to get in when he was 17) he had never seen anything as shocking as the scene before him.

Perhaps a little background is needed. Let us do that before we continue.

It was a normal Friday at Eastern Command. At least, it started out normal.

Riza was shooting at her co-workers in an attempt to motivate them to actually co-work, but the effect had worn off long ago and the men just continued their un-working ways. Havoc was smoking, Breda and Falman were playing Shogi, the Colonel was sleeping and washing windows, and Fuery was petting his latest stray (a naked mole rat, oddly enough) and was reading aloud from "Rare Animals and What To Feed Them", a book some sadist had written for saps like Fuery to buy and torture – we mean _read_ – to his fellows.

"Chalk is healthy for red rhinos living in the Arctic..." proclaimed the timid, spectacled man, stroking the naked mole rat absently.

"Enough!!" Riza shouted, causing them all to look up fearfully. Hawkeye _never _shouted. This was not a good sign.

Fuery gulped, stuffed the mole rat into his pocket and started furiously scribbling on the pile of papers stacked neatly on his desk. (It should be noted that his pile was considerably neater and shorted than his fellows, other than Falman, who seemed to be on the same level as Fuery.)

"What is it, Hawkeye? You made me mess up my signature now, it looks like I'm some preoccupied skirt chaser whose only thought is the skirts he's going to chase tonight at the bar rather than thinking of his work!" Mustang snapped irritably, mostly joking.

"Wait, isn't that a pretty much accurate description?" Havoc stage-whispered to Breda, who snickered a little before they were silence by the Colonel's glare.

Falman and Fuery were so focussed on their paper writing and staying in relatively good graces with Hawkeye, and Roy was too busy glaring ferociously at Breda and Havoc, who were too busy looking scared and trying to act small, that none of the men noticed Hawkeye – or her absence – for at least fifteen minutes.

"Hey, where's First Lieutenant Hawkeye?" asked Fuery, looking around. The mole rat stuck its head out of his pocket and he petted it happily.

"I don't know, did anyone notice her leave?" asked Breda, scratching his head.

"She left exactly fifteen minutes ago," Falman stated calmly. Apparently he had noticed.

"Whoa, you've gotta stop that. Really," Havoc told him, looking disturbed.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. The only sound was Fuery's hand stroking the naked rat's head.

"...That is wrong and creepy in so many ways," Breda said finally. "Fuery, stop that!"

"Aw, fine," Fuery muttered. "You know, you should be grateful, Lieutenant, that I didn't bring that dog I saw sitting on the corner of Main and Mossflower--"

"I made my next door neighbour kill it," Breda replied.

"What?! You what?! How could you?!?!?!?!" wailed Fuery, running out. "Fabio...!!!"

"...He already named it?" Havoc muttered, sweat-dropping. "Well, whatever. I'm going to the bar, I need a drink of five." He left too, and Breda, Mustang and Falman followed.

Which leads us to our current predicament.

Roy Mustang was floored. He couldn't believe it. At this hour of the morning! And, of all people... Hawkeye. _Hawkeye. _That was really unexpected.

"...Roy in a mini skirt..." she giggled to Fuery, who was sitting on the stool beside her. The naked mole rat was sitting in an overturned mug.

Hawkeye. Was. Drunk.

Although she sure as hell was sexy doing it. But that wasn't the point.

She looked over at her co-workers. "C'mon, guys, let's dance!" she said extravagantly, stumbling over to them.

"...I thought you said she left fifteen minutes ago," Breda said to Falman.

"She did, I'm sure of it," Falman insisted.

"She really can't hold her liquor, can she?"

"It would appear so."

"Well?! Don't you want to dance?!" Riza demanded irritably, swaying slightly. She'd somehow made it across the bar and over to them. Luckily, it was almost empty, sparing her added humiliation for what was surely a most embarrassing situation already.

"Um, sir? Are you all right...?" Havoc asked, cigarette dangling precariously from his gaping lips. "'Cause, you know, if you're not, I can take you home."

Breda punched him. "Shut up, Havoc."

"Wow," she hiccuped, "that was some abstract expressionism!"

"Um, no it wasn't, sir," Falman corrected.

She glared at him. "You don't get to dance with me," she told him.

"Oh, darn," he replied in one of his rare sarcastic moments.

"That's right!" She was too inebriated to catch the barb. "Hey! Come here, little buddy, let's play a game!" she called over her shoulder to Fuery, who hunched his shoulders and pretended not to hear, so she stumbled back over to him, dragging the Colonel along by his rope-thingy.

"Did you name your mole rat yet?" she asked quite seriously, almost seeming sober for a moment.

"Well actually--"

"I bet you named it something like that a loser would name it, like Mario. Loser Mario!" she giggled, swaying even more.

Everyone stopped then, except for Hawkeye, who was oblivious.

"U-um, um," Fuery mumbled, before running out, grabbing his naked mole rat as he went.

Even Mustang was glared at Riza.

"What did I do? It's true!" she snapped. "And let me tell you, _Mustang_, that I've always thought you were ugly. Ling Yao is the one for me! Ling is sexy!"

"That's quite enough, Lieutenant Hawkeye," Mustang said coldly.

"Sorry if you can't handle the truth, s_ir_," she spat out, glaring at him with unfocussed eyes.

"Besides, Ling Yao is too young for you! And he's probably with Ran Fan anyway!" Roy snapped.

"Oh, shut up, Buffalo Bob!" Hawkeye grumbled.

"That's quite enough!" Mustang reiterated, temper flaring at being compared to a buffalo. "I do not in any way, shape or form resemble a bison!"

"Whatever. That's irrelevant. In my drunken stupor, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference anyway!" Hawkeye retorted.

"...I think it's an act," Falman muttered to Breda and Havoc. "How many drunk people would say something like that?"

"I know I wouldn't," Breda replied in an undertone, Havoc nodding his agreement.

"Actually, sir," Falman said suddenly. "You do sort of look like a bison. I mean, you've got horns and a tail--"

"Wait a minute, we're talking about buffaloes, not bison! Completely different story, dumb ass!" Breda interjected.

"Shut up! I know more, I'm the one who memorises the dictionary!" Falman snapped back.

Roy blinked at the sudden burst of OOC-ness. He had a sinking feeling that all was not as it should be...

* * *

"_Hey, Roy, wake up!"_ He felt someone prod him in the side. 

"Nghahawha?!" he groaned, eyelids flickering open. "Ugh... My head..." Maes Hughes, his best friend, hovered above him against a background of... _pink?!_

"Oh, good, you're awake. Phew. I thought I was going to have to stand here all day! Happy Easter!!" Hughes produced a camera from somewhere and snapped off five pictures before Roy could blink from the flash.

"Damn it! What's going on? I had a dream Hawkeye was drunk and she was in love with Ling--" Mustang, in his disoriented state, started babbling everything that came into mind.

"Well, that last part's true. They're in the next room over," Hughes said solemnly.

"AGH ARE YOU SERIOUS?! I THOUGHT THIS WAS MY HOUSE!! AND WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE FOR THAT MATTER?!" Mustang roared.

"...Who's Ling? Sorry, I was just joking. And it is your house, Roy. Really, how late were you at the bar yesterday? 'Cause you have a major hangover or something, you're really moody," Hughes said.

"...Go away. And... are you wearing an Easter bunny costume?" asked Roy, shaking his head a little to clear it. "That would explain the pink..."

"Yup. I think I look sexy in it," Maes replied gravely.

"Yeah? Well most Easter bunnies don't wear glasses," Roy said sourly.

"Oh, cheer up. I have a surprise for you!" Hughes singsonged brightly, smiling dazzlingly.

"...I hope it's not pastel pink, purple, blue, green or yellow pyjamas given under the pretence of 'Easter', Maes," Roy growled, rubbing his eyes.

Hughes made a derisive noise. "Of course not! It's even _better_ than that!"

"Oh, joy. I can't wait, Maes. Stop it, the suspense is killing me," Mustang grumbled sarcastically.

"Well, I hid those little plastic Easter eggs that you buy at the store, filled with candy, you know?"

"Yes..." Roy answered slowly, a sinking feeling coming over him.

"Anyway, I got really, really big ones, and I emptied out the candy and gave it to Elicia-- coincidently, I've got another batch of pictures, wanna see 'em?" Hughes continued, momentarily distracted by his family.

"NO I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR DAMN PHOTOS, MAES! JUST GET ON WITH IT!!" Roy snarled.

"Touchy, touchy. So, emptied, candy, um... Oh! Right! I put all of your underwear in them, then hid them all over the house." He smiled again. "See you at work, Roy!" Then he bounded out, looking disturbingly like an Easter bunny. With glasses.

"Ha, but he couldn't have got the pair I was wearing to bed-- NOOOO!!!!"

* * *

In the next room, Ling looked up. He was sitting on the bed beside Hawkeye. "Do you think Hughes told him?" he asked her. 

"Yes, I think he did," Riza replied gravely.

* * *

Hm, so what did you think? Like it/hate it? Review and tell me, constructive criticism is appreciated! And possibly give it a rating, 1-10? 1 being terrible, 10 being good.Actually, I didn't think it was that great. It seems like there's too many drunk people fics out there, but oh well.  
I'm also looking for someone to beta my work? Pretty please? -sugary smile-  
Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! 


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